


lapse

by khayr



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Fluff, get ur shit together oz, ozglyn, yeah well, you know that vid where the guy doesnt remember who his wife is after surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khayr/pseuds/khayr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alright,” he trailed off, fingers ruffling through his already messy hair. “I asked who /you/ were, though. You’re… quite lovely, if I may.” Glynda could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, unbidden. Somewhere in the hall outside the door there was an eruption of muffled laughter followed by a chorus of ‘sssshh’.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen the video of the guy who is so high after surgery he doesn't remember who his wife is, you need to watch that first (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqebEymqFS8)!!
> 
> I feel like I should be ashamed for this but I'm definitely not lmao (its so silly omg....). Enjoy!!

It wasn’t often Glynda spent more than a few minutes of her day in the infirmary. She usually preferred to breeze through on her morning rounds to check that everything was in order before continuing on with the rest of her duties. The staff that worked this floor generally sorted their own problems and paperwork, requiring little intervention. Today however, was different. She’d taken a couple hours out of her afternoon schedule to linger for a while.  
  
She lost herself in the steady _beep_ of hospital equipment, unfocused eyes staring out the window. It had been a simple task to secure the room at the end of the hall (after all, who was going to tell her no?), but keeping nosy students and staff out had been another thing entirely. Though the door was closed for now she was fairly positive at least three people were eavesdropping at any given time.  
  
Ozpin was in the bed beside her chair, snoozing quietly. They’d pulled most of the miscellaneous tubes and patches off of him an hour ago, leaving her to wait for the anesthesia to work its way out of his system and for him to come back into the waking world. He’d had some kind of reaction to one of the medications in the iv cocktail he’d received post-op but was stable now… although the doctor on staff had warned her of a list of potential side effects that could pop up when he finally came around. Headache, nausea, mild fever, blurred vision, loss of appetite…  
  
“Where…?”  
  
Temporary memory loss.  
  
“Welcome back,” she said, turning her eyes from the skyline and instead to where Ozpin was groggily running his hands over his face and groping at the bedside table for his glasses, “Your biopsy came back negative.” He fidgeted, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose and then focused on her with a blank look. Slowly he lowered his head against the pillow again, slumping back down.  
  
“Biopsy?”  
  
“On the lump in your kidney.”  
  
“I had a lump in my kidney?”  
  
Glynda dragged her hands down her face. Not only was he that much more annoying when he couldn’t even remember why he was at the hospital in the first place, but his speech was slurred with the remnants of the anesthesia in his system. He blinked blearily at her while he tried to focus.  
  
“The doctor said that the combination of too much coffee, not enough water, and exposure to high concentrations of dust upset your kidneys. They removed the damaged tissue and, assuming you actually start drinking more water, you’ll be fine.” Ozpin nodded vaguely, the telltale sign that he had absolutely no clue what she was talking about.   
  
“Are you a nurse, then?”  
  
She choked, sputtering quietly at the notion. A part of her had assumed he’d recognize her, at least. The doctor had assured her that any side effects would wear off in a few hours… but that was a few hours with an inquisitive (and drugged) Ozpin to deal with. An Ozpin that apparently was making vague assumptions that she was a nurse and not a highly skilled huntress.  
  
“No,” she started slowly, flipping through a few emails on her scroll in an attempt to cool her temper, “I’m not.”  
  
“Well I mean,” he made an audible grumble when he attempted to sit up a little better, tugging idly at the collar of his hospital gown he did so. “I know you, then?”  
  
“You could say that.”  
  
She tapped around on the screen for a moment and brought up his photo, holding up the device so he could see it. “You,” she started, “Are Professor Ozpin. Headmaster of Beacon Academy.”   
  
“Alright,” he trailed off, fingers ruffling through his already messy hair. “I asked who _you_ were, though. You’re… quite lovely, if I may.” Glynda could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, unbidden. Somewhere in the hall outside the door there was an eruption of muffled laughter followed by a chorus of ‘ _sssshh_ ’.  
  
“Glynda Goodwitch,” she replied carefully, leveling her gaze with his, “Both a professor and the deputy headmistress.” After a moment she closed her scroll, drawing a slow breath to keep herself collected. She could feasibly lock him in here for a few hours and no one would know. He could ride out the effects of his drug-induced high and she wouldn’t have to listen to any of it. It’d be simple, really.  
  
“And we’ve... known each other a while?” She nodded, still trying to figure out how to shut him in this room for the rest of the afternoon. Ozpin seemed to contemplate this for a moment, staring out the window at the skyline and the tower where his office was in the distance. The haze in his eyes was starting to clear as the minutes ticked by, although if any of his memory was coming back yet it wasn’t showing.  
  
Glynda was grateful for the companionable quiet for a few minutes, tapping through a few more reports and sign-offs on her tablet. It was familiar. Comfortable. Like too many nights holed up in his office with piles of paperwork and a pot of coffee between them.  
  
“So…” Ozpin was fiddling with the edge of the sheet when he broke the silence, looking at her intently. “I meant it when I said you were beau-”  
  
“I’m also your wife.” She held up her hand without looking up from her scroll, pointing to the ring resting there. Outside in the hallway someone yelled ‘ _holy shit_ ’. How many people were even listening out there?  
  
“What?” His mouth hung open before he seemed to remember his manners, snapping it shut. Slowly he dragged his hands down his face, watching her as he did so. He suddenly realized there really was a wedding band on his own hand, inspecting it carefully a moment. “You’re _my_ wife?”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“For how long?”  
  
“A while.” It was all she could do to keep a straight face when the look of disbelief Ozpin was wearing was _that_ incredible. A smile curled at the corner of her mouth. As irritating as it was, she couldn’t deny it was at least a little bit funny.   
  
Holding the spot where the stitches ran across his abdomen he leaned forward to take her free hand in his, his movements agonizingly slow while he processed which motions did or didn’t pull at the incision. Glynda looked up at him, placing her scroll aside and closing her fingers around his. She matched his gaze, searching for some shred of recognition.  
  
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever _seen_.” The heat quickly returned to her cheeks as Glynda’s head dipped down, eyes focusing on a spot on the floor. She could hardly _believe_ how flustered she was over this; the notion of it all was ridiculous. There was a chorus of hushed giggles again outside and in that moment she decided perhaps it was time for her to get going with her afternoon tasks.  
  
“You’re a lucky man,” she replied, offering him a rare smile as she stood, “And I’ll be back later to pick you up.” Ozpin allowed his fingers to slip from hers, brow furrowed in concentration. Perhaps he was dreaming? He certainly hoped not.  
  
When Glynda opened the door, a dozen students scattered down the hallway.

  


Some time later Ozpin lay in his own bed, his scroll open in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. He was frowning, sifting idly through emails and reports that Glynda had already taken care of. Despite the fuzziness of his day in the infirmary he had awoken just before she came to bring him back to their quarters. She’d given him the most curious look, although when pressed had revealed nothing. Had something happened while he was out?   
  
A soft _ping_ came from the device in his hand; a text from Ironwood.   
  
>> _Rough day, Oz-man?_  
  
Attached was a video that appeared to have been filmed through the glass of a hospital room window. As he hit play a most unwelcome feeling of dread curled in the pit of his stomach. Slowly the event unfolded, and Ozpin was mortified to find he didn’t remember any of this happening. At all. He could remember the moments before the anesthesia hit his system in the operating room and then Glynda helping him up and out of bed later, but other than that?  
  
A quiet sound interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to find her leaned in the doorway of their bedroom, smiling lightly.  
  
“You,” he said, pointing in a non-threatening manner with his mug still in hand, “Have got to explain this to me.”


End file.
